


Retrograde

by Hours_Gone_By



Series: Trope Bingo Round 14 [2]
Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One), Transformers Generation One, Transformers – All Media Types
Genre: Amnesia, Amnesia Hollywood-Style, Coma, Community: trope_bingo, Date Night, Established Relationship, First Dates, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Spark Sexual Interfacing, Love, M/M, Memory, Post Season/Series 03, Prowl Lives (Transformers), Re-Developing Relationship, Recovery, Retrograde Amnesia, Tactile Sexual Interfacing, Trope Bingo Round 14, trope bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:49:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23132713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hours_Gone_By/pseuds/Hours_Gone_By
Summary: After spending a year in a coma, Prowl wakes without his memories of the war. But, there are some things that even memory loss can't erase, and some things that are constant.
Relationships: Jazz/Prowl
Series: Trope Bingo Round 14 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1635451
Comments: 18
Kudos: 84
Collections: Trope Bingo: Round Fourteen





	Retrograde

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Trope Bingo Round 14. Prompt: Amnesia  
> For the [Prowl x Jazz Anniversary Challenge 2019](https://prowlxjazz.dreamwidth.org/tag/anniversary+challenge+19), I wrote [The End of The War](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20535557/chapters/49462706), which starts out with Prowl in a coma after the events of TF:TM. There's a hint that Prowl might have amnesia as a result of his injuries, though he doesn't. Then I thought, what if he did?
> 
> * * *
> 
> [OceansBreeze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OceansBreeze/pseuds/OceansBreeze) has translated this into Chinese! [Find it here on Lofter](https://oceanbreeze18.lofter.com/post/309d1108_1ca629570).

Jazz had burned rubber getting back to Autobot City as soon as First Aid commed him to tell him Prowl should wake up that afternoon. Jazz wasn't much of a praying mech - what had Primus or any God that might be out there ever done for him, after all - but he prayed then.

_Let Prowl be okay_ , he thought to any entity, orderly or chaotic, that might be listening. _Let him be okay, let him be okay..._

Jazz sped through the streets with ease. Later he'd realize Metroplex had cleared them for him, but right then, all his focus was on getting to the hospital. He skidded through the doors still in alt and transformed as he crossed through the doors to Prowl's ward.

First Aid intercepted him before he'd even come to a full stop.

"Jazz, I know you're anxious," First Aid said, hand on Jazz's shoulder, gentle but firm. "But there are other patients here, and you need to respect their right to quiet. Prowl isn't awake yet. It will still be several hours. You can wait here, as long as you don't disturb my other patients."

"Okay, Aid," Jazz agreed. "But..."

"I'll let you know if anything changes in his condition," First Aid promised. "Just, remember this is a hospital, alright?"

"Right. Okay. Right."

Still, Jazz was anxious, and when he was anxious, he needed to move. He paced the length of the ward and back, over and over, until even First Aid began to run out of patience and finally intercepted him.

"Jazz," First Aid said firmly. "If you need to burn off energy, go to the track or find someone to spar with. You're disturbing the other patients."

"You said it'd be a few hours before Prowl woke up," Jazz countered. "You said that three hours ago, Aid, he's gotta be awake soon, right?"

"I said it would be _several_ hours, Jazz. More than three. Now, I'm not going to make you leave Medical," he continued, "but if you want to wait, you have to wait patiently. You can wait in Prowl's room if you like, but _quietly_ , please."

Jazz sighed and rubbed his fingers just under the edge of his optic band.

"Sorry, Aid. I just…I worry, y'know? I'm sure you did an excellent job – a perfect job like Ratchet taught you – but he was hurt so bad, and it's been so long."

"I know," First Aid said, guiding Jazz toward the private rooms at the back of Medical where Prowl was recovering. "Prowl's injuries from the attack on the shuttle were severe, and it took a long time to manufacture the parts we needed for repair. But they're all in place and integrated, and his self-repair systems are running the final tests now. I'm monitoring it on my HUD, and everything is going as well as can be expected. You know that with work this delicate, there are no hard-and-fast rules about when the patient will come back online."

"Yeah, I know, I know." Jazz paused before the entrance to Prowl's room. "I appreciate everything you've done, Aid, I just – you're _sure_ he's gonna wake up and remember everything?"

"It might take some time, and the more recent memories may be distorted or fragmented. Prowl probably won't remember the attack on the shuttle." First Aid patted Jazz's arm reassuringly. "I don't want to say he won't know you when he wakes up at first, but you should prepare yourself for that, Jazz. I can't imagine how hard this is for you. I'm sure he'll remember you eventually, though. You two have been part of each other's lives for such a long time."

"Yeah. Yeah, he'd remember me eventually, no matter what. I mean, he's still Prowl, right?"

"His personality matrix was undamaged," First Aid replied diplomatically.

"'Kay, well." Jazz set his shoulders. "Guess I just gotta wait then. Here I go."

Jazz walked through the door.

The monitors surrounding and attached to Prowl didn't bother Jazz. They were for damn sure a better sight than the CR tank Prowl had been in, taken out only for a series of surgeries, for an entire Earth year. Despite what he'd said to First Aid earlier, it really hadn't been that long in the life of a Cybertronian. It had just felt longer. No Optimus, Ratchet, Wheeljack, Ironhide – the list went on too long. Prowl had still been alive – barely – but Jazz hadn't been able to talk to him. Millions of years they'd been together, and he was just now really realizing how much he relied on his lover to be his sounding board, among many other things.

Machines beeped and hummed steadily as Jazz took his seat next to Prowl's bed, wrapping one of Prowl's hands in his. Prowl's external structure had been badly damaged, but he'd taken and survived worse before. The real damage had been done to his fine electronics and wiring, finicky, delicate work that required small specialized parts and a master hand to repair. Most of all, it required time. Time in the CR chamber, time for Prowl's self-repair systems – which had needed repair themselves – to do the most delicate work and integrate the new components. That was the most unpredictable part of this; that was what required the most patience.

Humans said that when someone was in a coma, they could hear you if you talked to them. Prowl wasn't precisely in a coma, but Jazz figured talking to him couldn't hurt. So he told him about what had happened since the attack on the shuttle: the deaths, the loss of Optimus, Unicron, Galvatron, Rodimus, the fledgling restoration of Cybertron, Quintessons, Optimus's return and second loss, the Hate Plague, Optimus returning again. Peace, fragile and still uncertain, but here at last. He sang and reminisced and told Prowl about what he hoped they'd do in the future. Prowl didn't respond, but Jazz said to himself that it didn't mean it wasn't working.

First Aid came in three-quarters of a cycle later to give Jazz the news that Prowl's self-repair had completed their final tests, and Prowl should be coming online any moment now. First Aid gently shooed Jazz away so he could run his own final tests and monitor his patient on their return to consciousness. Jazz tried not to hover, to stay in the background, but it wasn't easy, especially not once the sounds from the monitors began to change. They were getting just a little faster – that had to be good, right, so long as they weren't too fast? Over Aid's shoulder, Jazz could see Prowl's optics light up.

"Prowl?" First Aid prompted. "Do you know who I am?"

Jazz locked his knees to keep himself from darting forward. First Aid had to run some basic checks first. It wouldn't help Prowl to interrupt those, especially if something actually was wrong. If Jazz hadn't locked his limbs, he would have swayed, at best, at Prowl's next words.

"I recognize you as a medic, but I'm unaware of your designation. Please identify yourself."

Okay. Okay. Maybe…maybe Prowl's systems just weren't up to par yet, or his memories were a little fragmented. It didn't mean he'd forgotten everything, right?

"My designation is First Aid," the medic replied, delicately leaving off that he was the Autobot's current CMO. "Can you tell me who you are?"

"I am Prowl of Praxus, currently serving as part of the diplomatic envoy to Iacon on behalf of the free Neutral state of Praxus."

Jazz dug his fingers into the wall to keep from making a noise. That was right before the Fall of Praxus, just before Prowl had joined up with the Autobots. He would-would still _know_ Jazz, only as Blacklight's second, not as the head of Spec Ops. Not as his darling. Jazz told himself to focus on that instead of the awful truth that Prowl would not remember _being_ with him.

"Alright," First Aid said, still professionally calm. "Do you know where you are?"

"It's clearly a hospital," Prowl said. "I would assume either Iacon Central or a private facility within the High Council Pavilions. Was there an attack? Is that why a member of Special Operations is here? They're serving as a guard?"

Jazz wasn't surprised that Prowl was aware of him, but Prowl hadn't actually _looked_ at him. He did now and frowned.

"You're distressed," Prowl said to Jazz. "Far more than I would expect a guard to be distressed about their charge, and far higher ranked a guard than I would expect to be assigned. Why?" He looked back at First Aid. "My chronometer is offline. What is the date?"

"We can get to that in a moment, Prowl," First Aid said soothingly, though Jazz knew it wouldn't help much. Prowl might have forgotten, but he was still Prowl, and it only took him a few kliks to brute-force his way into the public network and access the current date and time.

Jazz saw the exact moment Prowl realized what had happened.

"One-hundred, eight thousand, four-hundred thirty-three point seven three four nine three vorn?" Prowl said softly, sounding lost. "Was I in stasis or undergoing repair for that entire time?"

"Prowl," First Aid said, a little more firmly now, "we'll get to all of that, I promise, but we have to do it slowly, or you'll incur further trauma."

Jazz, who remembered how impulsive younger Prowl could be, had already sent a command to Metroplex to kill access to both the Cybertronian DataNet and the human Internet in this section of the hospital. Cutting him off was the best way to prevent Prowl from accessing info on his past too quickly, probably resulting in a crash. From the way he frowned, Prowl probably had been about to try just that.

"Very well," Prowl agreed, a little grudgingly.

"Good," First Aid said. "You've got a lot of questions, and they'll be answered shortly, but first, I'm going to test your motor responses, okay?"

Prowl agreed to that as well, not that he had much choice, and Jazz waited and tried to get his reactions under control. First Aid asked Prowl to sit up, slowly, and Jazz had to stop himself from reacting when Prowl wobbled a little bit.

"That's alright, Prowl," First Aid said, giving Jazz a look that said 'stay put' that was clearly learned from Ratchet. "Your systems are still calibrating after your repairs. A little unsteadiness is to be expected, and it should pass in time."

Prowl nodded. "I understand. Are your tests complete?" When First Aid said they were, said, "then I would like to what happened to me over the past hundred and eight thousand vorn." He looked at Jazz again. "And what happened that I warrant having the second-in-command of Autobot Special Operations as a guard." He looked Jazz over again and frowned faintly. "Or…are you here as a guard?"

"Not exactly," Jazz managed to say. "Go on and let First Aid explain stuff to you though, okay?"

"Very well. First Aid?"

"Prowl, you weren't in stasis or undergoing repairs since your last memory. You _were_ very badly injured last stellar-cycle," First Aid said gently. "It looks like you're not able to recall what's happened between your last memory and your recent injury. Before I commit to this, I want to run some scans and get a second opinion, but I can say that your memory files appear to be intact."

"I was…" Prowl frowned deeply, obviously running calculations. "The war?"

"Yeah," Jazz said softly. "Kept going all that time."

"'Kept,'" Prowl repeated. "I assume I became involved somehow? Praxus could not remain Neutral forever, and my tactical abilities would have been of great value."

Despite everything, that assertion was so _Prowl_ that Jazz almost smiled.

"Yeah," Jazz said instead. "Yeah, you were, Praxus didn't, and they were. _You_ were. You _are_."

Prowl nodded slowly, still focused on Jazz. "I see. Doctor, how likely is it I will regain access to my memory files?"

"I can't say yet," First Aid said soothingly. "I've commed an associate – Hoist - to bring me some equipment so I can run more scans and tests. I won't be able to give you a firm idea at least until then."

First Aid ran more tests, with increasingly complicated scanners, tested Prowl's reflexes, and asked him a battery of questions and finally determined that Prowl was experiencing 'dissociative amnesia.' First Aid said it was caused by an emotional shock and that Prowl's memories, processors, and drives were all still intact. The recommended treatment in Prowl's case was psychotherapy – and thank Primus Rung had shown up with the most recent group of Autobots – and time.

"And, your presence, Jazz?" Prowl asked once he'd absorbed First Aid's explanation. "Did we – work together throughout the war."

"Yeah – among other things."

"Closely, I presume?" Prowl continued and amnesia or no amnesia there was no way Prowl was asking about them being just coworkers. Jazz could read it in the mech's tone, the way his gaze bored into Jazz's visor.

"Yeah," Jazz answered. "And yeah, we were more than coworkers. A lot more."

"Jazz, I think we should be careful telling Prowl about his past."

"He's already figured it out, Aid," Jazz said. "Memory or no memory, Prowl knows me."

"Jazz…"

"He's right," Prowl said. "I don't remember being part of Jazz's life, I have no memories of us being together. But I know him."

"Yeah." Jazz walked over and took a seat on the edge of the bed, putting a hand next to Prowl's. "Guess you can't exactly block access to your spark, huh?"

Prowl smiled, just barely, the way he had back when they were just starting to go out, and touched his fingertips, lightly, to Jazz's. "It seems not."

* * *

Part of Prowl's treatment, in addition to his sessions with Rung, was to be exposed to familiar things. So, he did move back into his and Jazz's quarters. Jazz wasn't sure how helpful that would be since he and Prowl hadn't lived here very long after they moved to Autobot City from the Ark. The Ark wasn't accessible anymore and they'd been apart when living on the Moonbases. But, their quarters did contain their possessions, including the crystals Prowl had been cultivating. Bluestreak had looked after them while Prowl was on the Moonbase and Jazz had taken over while Prowl had been in the CR chamber.

"These are newer," Prowl said one day after he'd been back to tending his crystals for about a week. "They're not the ones I had on Cybertron."

"Nope," Jazz said. "The ones you brought on the Ark didn't survive our four-million-year nap."

"I must have started these after we came out of stasis." Prowl touched a crystal gently. "You gave me some of these?" When Jazz said that he had Prowl nodded. "I don't remember exactly, but it feels like something you would have done."

Prowl got his memories back in fits and starts, and not sequentially. He knew Bluestreak right of the bat, of course, and some of the Autobots as well. Sometimes, he remembered someone who had died and asked about them and that – that was never easy, for him or for Jazz. Those were usually the bad days, and while he didn't relapse, it would take a while before he'd start to reaccess his old memories. Rung and First Aid and Hoist all said that was normal but Jazz couldn't stop worrying every time it happened.

"It may always happen," First Aid cautioned. "We don't know."

"I know," Jazz said to his therapist when Rung brought up the same thing at a private session. "Can't help worrying, though."

"It's normal to worry," Rung replied. "Do you only worry about how Prowl is handling things now or do you worry about how he'll handle things in the future as well?"

Jazz shrugged. "Little bit of both? I mean, isn't this hurting his recovery or something?"

"Recovery isn't a straight line, Jazz," Rung reminded him. "Prowl is going to have good days and bad days, and so will you."

Yeah, Jazz knew that. Kind of hard to survive nine million years of war and get through without trauma and trying to recover from it. He'd helped Prowl recover from it before, too, but this was different. Prowl was different. Didn't stop Jazz from loving him, of course, but Prowl was a little softer these days than he had been near the end of the war. Not soft and fluffy, Prowl had never been that, but not as jaded and weary as he'd started to get near the end of things. Not like he'd been after Praxus – and _fuck_ was getting him through Praxus again one of the hardest things Jazz had ever had to do! Prowl regressed a little after that but not a much as Jazz had been afraid he would.

"You're very patient with me," Prowl said, the third or fourth night he woke Jazz up with nightmares. "I'm sorry you have to do this again."

"You don't have to apologize for anything, Prowler," Jazz promised. He'd been sleeping on the couch still and had only come into the bedroom when Prowl had shouted himself awake. Pre-Autobot Prowl and Jazz hadn't been together, so they hadn't gone back to sharing a bed yet. Jazz missed it a whole lot but he got that they had to do it in Prowl's own time.

"Still. You remember having done this before, it can't be easy." Prowl reached for and took Jazz's hand. "Thank you, darling – I do call you 'darling,' don't I?"

"Yeah," Jazz said, hoping his voice wasn't catching as much as he thought it was. "Yeah, you do."

"What did you call me?"

"I used to call you 'love' or 'babe.'"

Prowl nodded. "Those feel right. Did you – the first time – that was when we moved in together, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, it was."

"It helped me sleep, didn't it?" Prowl asked, running his thumb gently over Jazz's fingers. "It must have. I woke up, and I was startled because I was alone but I'd usually slept alone before us."

"Yeah, it did. Didn't suggest it this time 'cause, you know…"

"…I had to make the invitation on my own," Prowl finished. "Yes, per Rung and First Aid's instructions, of course."

"Yeah. But I'll stay as long as you want me to," Jazz promised, already regretting the loss of Prowl's hand in his.

Prowl smiled and lay down again, not letting go of Jazz. "I want you to stay the whole night, darling. Please?"

Jazz swallowed. "Yeah, yeah, of course I will, babe." He lay down, facing Prowl, body automatically adjusting to its usual position on their bed. "I'll be right here if you need me."

Prowl let his optics dim, body relaxing. "I know."

* * *

Jazz had lived long enough that he knew, or should've known, that things didn't work out the way they did in the vids. Prowl's memory wasn't suddenly going to come back because they'd started sleeping in the same bed again. His remembering a pet name and letting Jazz move off the couch didn't mean he was all better. There wasn't going to be any big cascade of memories come crashing back and he'd suddenly throw himself into Jazz's arms again, no matter how much Jazz might want that. Things had to happen in their own time. It wasn't _wrong_ for Jazz to want them to hurry up but pushing would only harm Prowl and that Jazz refused to do.

Still, he couldn't help feeling a jolt of hope when Prowl asked him for a 'date night,' a concept they'd picked up from the humans. Jazz tried not to let his hopes get up too high when they went out, first to a drive-in that catered to Autobots and then to share evening fuel on a cliff overlooking the ocean. Jazz was from Staniz, whose dominant feature was a harbour, but Prowl had spent his formative stellar-cycles in land-locked Praxus City. Prowl had always been fascinated by seas and oceans. This cliff, with its view of the seemingly-endless Pacific Ocean, had been one of Prowl's favourite places.

"I would have worried it wasn't safe," Prowl said thoughtfully as they transformed. "It is beautiful, but it's so out in the open."

"Yeah. You never said anything, but I always knew you did," Jazz confirmed.

"It's safe now, though," Prowl said confidently and put his hand in Jazz's while they watched the sunset.

"Thanks for asking for this, Prowler," Jazz said once dark had fallen, and the stars began to come out.

"Thank you for indulging me," Prowl replied. "I felt it was time, but I wasn't entirely certain that you would."

"I've been hoping you'd want something like this," Jazz admitted. "I just – Rung said I should wait till you ask, and – "

Prowl turned, tugging Jazz around to face him. "I asked. I am asking. I know I don't remember us yet, not really, but I'm asking, can we – start again, Jazz?"

"Be like court-mates again, you mean? First dates and all that?" That stirring of hope was back.

Prowl smiled and reached for Jazz's other hand. "I was hoping for a little more than that."

Jazz's spark spun wildly. He _knew_ that look on Prowl's face, tender and gentle and just for Jazz. "What're you saying, here, Prowler?"

Prowl stepped closer, still holding Jazz's hands, almost close enough to kiss. "I don't want to upset you if I say something you're not ready to hear."

Primus, Prowl's optics were gorgeous… "Pretty sure that's supposed to be my line." A little more seriously, Jazz added, "go on and say it. If it's the wrong time after all, we'll work through it."

"You're very devoted," Prowl told him. "Very careful not to rush me, or make me feel pressured to remember, even though I know you miss the Prowl you had, that you miss us. You don't show it, but I know you do. You've been very patient with me. I can't tell you what it's meant to me, my darling."

"I just wanna help you," Jazz said, still wondering where Prowl was going with this.

"I know, and you have. You are. Fully recovered memory or not, I can't picture my life without you in it, past, or future."

"Prowl…" Jazz wanted to kiss him, and Prowl seemed to read his mind, kissing him very gently on the mouth. Primus, he'd missed kissing Prowl! He wanted more, but… "You're sure about this?"

"I am." Prowl let his forehelm rest against Jazz's. "I fell in love with you once. Is it really so surprising I fell in love with you again?" He didn't let Jazz reply, just kissed him again, and Jazz kissed him back without hesitation, pouring all his love and joy into it.

"I love you too," Jazz said between kisses. "We can start over, babe, of course we can. Just been waiting for you to say it."

"Then, take me home?" Prowl asked. "I know exactly how I want to start our new lives together. Even though I don't remember clearly, I've missed knowing your spark."

Jazz agreed – of _course_ he agreed! – and got as close as he could to breaking the speed limit without doing it heading back to their quarters.

Even if Prowl didn't remember everything about 'facing with Jazz, Jazz sure remembered everything Prowl loved and he showed it to Prowl all over again. Prowl might not actively have access to his memories, but his hands and his body remembered enough to make Jazz shiver and moan. Prowl's spark though…nothing had changed about his spark and Jazz had been more afraid than he'd realized it might have.

"Jazz," Prowl breathed after when they lay tangled together.

"Yeah?" Jazz asked, warm and content and still slightly buzzed from overload. The spark merge had been _exactly_ as Jazz remembered it, treasured even more for not having been experienced in over a stellar-cycle. "What d'you need, baby?"

"Mmm." Prowl stroked Jazz's chest plates. "Nothing, right now. I have everything."

Jazz wanted to ask if that meant Prowl remembered, but suddenly getting back your memory 'cuz of a great 'face wasn't something that happened in reality. They just had to be patient and live and work with whatever recovery Prowl managed. Besides, Prowl was here, Prowl loved him, and their sparks remembered each other. Jazz didn't need anything more.

"Yeah," Jazz said, letting his optics dim. "Me too."

**Author's Note:**

> Prowl does eventually regain access to most of his memories, although many of the more traumatic events he experienced are only recovered as data, with no emotion attached to them. He and Jazz get to live long, happy lives together, eventually moving back to Cybertron and buying a small house across from a crystal park in New Praxus.


End file.
